His Butler, On Call
by Astra H. Lowelle
Summary: When Ciel contracts a case of food poisoning, his faithful butler is on call.


Earl Ciel Phantomhive may have been king of the most successful toymaking company in England, but he was still a twelve-year-old boy.

Who are prone to get sick if their cook were to royally mess up a dish and their butler not to find out about it until after the master has already eaten and been tucked into bed.

Therefore, Sebastian was not terribly surprised to be summoned upstairs to his master's room to find him sitting slumped against the pillows with a stream of vomit decorating the front of his nightshirt.

"Oh, dear," Sebastian said softly, coming forward and unbuttoning Ciel's shirt. He could feel the boy trembling slightly. "What happened?"

"It's quite obvious, isn't it," Ciel managed.

"I see," Sebastian nodded. He helped the boy out of the shirt and buttoned him into a new one. "How do you feel now, Master?"

In answer, Ciel lurched to one side and threw up again.

"It was the beef Wellington, I believe." Sebastian felt Ciel's forehead. "You're running a temperature, too. A touch of food poisoning, maybe?"

"I don't care what it is," Ciel snapped. "Do something about it!"

He punctuated the last words with another explosion of retching, finished with several hacking coughs. He looked almost pleadingly at his butler. "I need a drink of water."

"Of course, Master," Sebastian replied as he went to fetch the desired beverage. "May I then bring you outside? I'm sure you could do with a bit of fresh air."

Ciel nodded weakly as he sipped at his drink.

When he was done, Sebastian took the empty glass from him and threw it out the window. He then lifted Ciel from the bed and stepped up onto the windowframe.

"Why aren't we taking the stairs?" Ciel whispered hoarsely as Sebastian stepped off the frame and began descending slowly toward the earth. Sebastian looked at him.

"I didn't want to jostle you, and this will be faster. Would you prefer the stairs?"

Ciel shook his head. Sebastian could see sweat beading on the boy's forehead, despite the cool night wind.

They touched gently down to the manicured grass beside the pond, where the glass cup lay completely unscathed. Sebastian let Ciel down into a kneeling position, which Ciel took as an opportunity to vomit again.

"Oh, dear," Sebastian murmured again as he held his master's head forward slightly to prevent him choking. When he was done, Ciel slumped sideways onto the grass, coughing.

"I need a drink," he croaked. "I need a drink."

Sebastian dipped the cup into the pond and helped Ciel drink. The young earl only managed a few mouthfuls before he slumped back against his butler, sweating and shivering in tandem.

"Do you feel better now, sir?" Sebastian asked. Ciel shook his head miserably.

"I still feel awful," he whispered. "But I can't- haven't any energy left, and-"

He shuddered into silence and curled up on the soft grass. Both of them were silent for a while, listening to the crickets.

"If you'd like," Sebastian said after a spell, "while we're out here, you can think of what you'd like for dessert tomorrow."

"Don't... mention... food," Ciel groaned.

"I was thinking banana cream tarts," Sebastian mused. Ciel moaned.

"You know I hate those, Sebastian, why-"

"With lots of cream poured over them," Sebastian interrupted. "Lots and lots of thick sweet cream. But the bananas must be perfectly ripe. Ripe enough to-"

Ciel gagged, and in the next instant Sebastian had him upright again and slightly forward, one hand on his heaving chest and the other on his back. Ciel coughed violently, disgorged a mouthful of what looked like half-digested dog treats, and collapsed over Sebastian's lap.

"Better?" Sebastian asked softly. Eyes closed, Ciel nodded.

"Very good. Now, some more water, I think, and then shall I draw you a bath?"

Nod.

Sebastian helped Ciel upright and handed him the water. Ciel drank slowly, though he nearly dropped the glass twice, and then closed his eyes again.

"May I take this to mean you wish to retire now, Master?"

"But... the lawn," Ciel mumbled. "Mess. Sir Reille... come tomorrow... for tea."

Sebastian scooped his very limp master up into his arms. "Taking care of the lawns is Finny's priority. You, on the other hand, are mine."

He began to rise slowly off the ground in ascension to the window. "And as for Sir Reille, I shall telephone him and inform him that most unfortunately, my master will be unable to see him tomorrow. If, however, he would like to come for banana cream tarts-"

Ciel winced slightly as his butler landed on the windowsill. "I order you... not mention... cream tarts."

"As you wish, my lord." Sebastian placed him gently on the unsoiled end of the bed and went to go draw the bath.

"Why do we have to cancel with Sir Reille?" Ciel asked drowsily as Sebastian finished buttoning his third nightshirt of the night and began to comb his damp hair. "He's an important client."

"I am aware of that," Sebastian said patiently. "But I highly doubt you will be in any condition to entertain tomorrow."

"But I'm fine now!"

"Truly? You cannot seem to sit up on your own at the moment."

Ciel scowled. Sebastian smiled as he tucked his master into the newly-sheeted bed.

"Good night, Master. Sleep well."

"You'll give Sir Reille a new appointment?"

Sebastian smiled again. Child or not, sick or not, Earl Ciel Phantomhive was still Earl Ciel Phantomhive.

"Consider it done, Master."


End file.
